


Little Dinosaurs

by hilaryfaye



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Kidlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 08:09:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/648413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hilaryfaye/pseuds/hilaryfaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry had a row of dinosaur figurines on his window sill. Sherlock had seen them once, and when he said something Henry got embarrassed and put them in a shoebox under his bed. Sometimes, though, he spotted Henry putting them back on his window sill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Dinosaurs

“Henry?”

“Go away!”

Sherlock rubbed at his nose. He was covered in dirt, though he hadn’t noticed yet. He’d run all the way here after school, knowing no one else would know to look for Henry here. Henry probably didn’t even know that Sherlock knew.

Sherlock could hear him sniffling.

“Henry, I’m sorry!” Sherlock tried to find a way inside. It was supposed to have been a tree house, but Mr. Anderson had never put it up. The big tree in their backyard was getting old and rotting anyway. “I didn’t mean to tell them about the dinosaurs.”

Henry had a row of dinosaur figurines on his window sill. Sherlock had seen them once, and when he said something Henry got embarrassed and put them in a shoebox under his bed. Sometimes, though, he spotted Henry putting them back on his window sill.

Mycroft said Sherlock ought to leave them alone, that the Andersons had enough trouble without his nosing around—but Henry was the only person who talked to Sherlock, except for Molly, but she didn’t count. She was a girl.

“Well you did.” Sherlock could see Henry now; he was sitting in the corner with his knees pulled up to his chest. He had a scrape on his arm that was new. Sherlock pried open the door and crawled inside.

“Go away!” Henry snapped again. “I’ll get my dad!”

“No you won’t.” Even their stupid teacher could tell that Henry was afraid of his dad, and his mum was always in bed. Sherlock sat in the opposite corner, though.

Henry sniffed and looked away. “They all made fun of me.”

“They’re stupid.” Sherlock picked leaves out of his hair. “No one else can name every dinosaur in the museum.”

“’Cept you,” Henry muttered, staring at the ground.

“Yeah, but I’m trying to forget.”

Henry looked at him like he was crazy. “Why?”

“Well, it’s not important for me.” Sherlock noticed there was grass in Henry’s hair. “It is for you, you wanna be a palaeontologist. But not me. So why do I need to know? Besides,” Sherlock tried to smile, “You oughta be best at something.”

Henry rubbed his nose and stared at his shoes. Sherlock crawled across the small space and sat next to him. Henry was taller than him—most everyone was. Sherlock was the smallest boy in class. He was determined to be taller when he grew up. “I told you they were stupid. All they ever talk about is telly.”

_“Henry?”_

“Mum’s calling,” Henry mumbled.

“Are you gonna go?”

“Nah.”

They were quiet for a second. Sherlock hesitated, and awkwardly put his arms around Henry. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” Henry hesitated, and then leaned into the awkward hug. After a little while, when his mum stopped calling, Henry added—“Molly likes you.”

“What?”

“Molly likes you—really likes you.”

“How do you know?”

“She told me.”

“But you like Molly!”

“…that’s when she told me.” Henry was sulking again.

Sherlock stood up, tugging Henry up by the arm. “Come on.”

“What?”

“Come on. Tell me about all the dinosaurs again.”

“But you said you were tryin’ to forget—”

“I know. Tell me anyway.” They snuck through the house, past his mother and little sister. Mr. Anderson wasn’t back from work yet. The dinosaurs were back on the windowsill now, same place as always. Henry arranged them alphabetically. They were the only thing Mr. Anderson ever gave him that he actually liked.

Sherlock sat on the end of the bed while Henry told him about all of the dinosaurs. It was dark before he realized, and Mrs. Anderson found them both there. Mrs. Anderson always looked sad and tired when Sherlock saw her, but he didn’t know why. She never seemed to do anything.

“You should go home, Sherlock,” she said quietly, “The back door.”

He always left out the back, when Mr. Anderson was home. Mr. Anderson didn’t like Sherlock, or any of the Holmes family, really. Mycroft said that Mr. Anderson and Mummy had some old fight or something. Said it had something to do with Daddy leaving, but when Sherlock asked what he meant Mycroft just got quiet.

Henry looked like he didn’t want to be alone again, but Sherlock couldn’t argue with Mrs. Anderson, so he said goodbye and crept out the back.

“Sherlock, where have you been?!” Mummy demanded when he walked in the front door. “You’re absolutely filthy. Mycroft, get him in the bath, I’ve got to heat up his dinner now.”

Mycroft looked up from his homework. He looked exasperated but led Sherlock upstairs. “You were next door again, weren’t you?”

Sherlock didn’t say anything.

“Sherlock, I don’t have anything against you and Henry being friends, but you know how Mummy feels about you going over there.”

“I had to say sorry.”

“You? Apologize?” Mycroft seemed surprised. He didn’t ask what Sherlock had to apologize about. He ran a bath, just as hot as Sherlock liked it. Sherlock rubbed at his face, but Mycroft told him to stop. “You’re only smearing the dirt everywhere.”

Sherlock looked up at his older brother. “Can we go to the store tomorrow?”

“What for?”

“Henry’s birthday is Thursday.”

“And you want to get him a present.”

Sherlock nodded. Mycroft rubbed at his forehead the way Mummy did when she had a headache. “Sure. We’ll go after you get out of school.”

 

Henry wasn’t at school the next day. The teacher said he was sick, but Sherlock knew better. Henry hardly ever got sick. When his mum couldn’t get out of bed he stayed home to take care of his sister.

Sherlock ignored everyone—except the teacher because he’d get in trouble and they’d call Mummy—thinking about after school, when Mycroft would take him to the store. There was a big, green dinosaur he’d seen when he went with Mummy to get the groceries. Henry might have seen it too. All he knew was that Henry would want it, and Sherlock was going to get it for him.

He’d saved up all his money for months for Henry’s birthday. That had meant no ice creams, except the ones Mycroft bought when he was feeling nice.

Mycroft was just saying goodbye to one of his friends when Sherlock spotted him at the end of the day. Sherlock ran up to him, almost dropping his backpack.

“Not going to say goodbye to anyone?”

Sherlock shook his head. “Come on, let’s go!” He tugged on Mycroft’s arm.

“Alright, alright.” Mycroft seemed to walk achingly slow. Sherlock kept a tight grip on his backpack. He had a jar of coins there, all the money he’d saved. “How much’ve you got there?” Mycroft asked.

“Almost seven and a half pounds,” Sherlock said proudly.

When they got to the store, Sherlock ran looking for the dinosaurs.

He stood looking around, his stomach sinking. “What’s wrong?” Mycroft asked.

“The dinosaurs are gone.”

“What?”

“There were dinosaurs, Mycroft,” Sherlock said, his eyes stinging. “I wanted to get him a dinosaur.”

The only thing Henry seemed to like was dinosaurs. Well, except Molly, but he couldn’t make her into a birthday gift. Sherlock sat on the floor in defeat, hugging his backpack. Why would the dinosaurs be gone? He started to sniffle.

Mycroft pulled one of the employees aside, murmuring. After a moment he pulled Sherlock to his feet. “Come on, I’ve got something to show you.” Sherlock didn’t want to go but he did, rubbing his nose.

The employee—Jess, he nametag said—led them back to the store room. “I haven’t had a chance to get them back on the shelf yet, today. Wait here.”

Sherlock stared at the floor, and didn’t look up until Jess came back, holding one of the big green dinosaurs. He gasped, hugging it to his chest when she handed it to him. “Thank you!”

She smiled and nodded towards the checkout. Sherlock could hardly see over the counter but he still insisted on paying for the dinosaur himself. Mycroft waited patiently while he counted out the money, and quietly slipping him a pound when he came up short. He even helped Sherlock wrap it.

They could hear arguing next door again. “Just promise me you’ll only go over when Mr. Anderson isn’t home,” Mycroft said.

Sherlock nodded.

Henry wasn’t at school on Wednesday, either, or Thursday. Sherlock went over immediately after school on Thursday, knocking on the door.

Penny, his sister, opened the door. “Henry!” she yelled.

Henry was standing in the kitchen, apparently trying to figure out how to heat a can of chicken noodle soup. He looked tired, and he might have been crying. Sherlock clutched the wrapped present, pretending like he didn’t notice. “I brought you something. For your birthday.”

“You remembered my birthday?” Henry climbed down from his stool at the stove, hesitantly taking the present. Sherlock grinned.

Penny hovered at the back of the room as Henry ripped the wrapping paper. Henry’s face lit up and he hugged the dinosaur, pressing his face against it. “Thanks,” he said, eyes closed. He smiled.

Sherlock smiled back. “Do you want any help?”

“Do you know how to cook chicken noodle soup?”

“No, but I can figure it out.” He pulled the can off the shelf, reading the label. Henry gave his present another squeeze and put it on a chair at the kitchen table. He surprised Sherlock with a hug. “Thank you, Sherlock.”

Sherlock returned the hug, pressing his face against Henry’s narrow chest. He pulled out a spoon and a pen.

“Tell me about the little dinosaurs again"


End file.
